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[Villian] Chapter 56: Hidden Stash
🕑 Added 2025-04-17 03:55:54 +0000 UTCLeon opened his parched lips and mumbled with a hoarse voice, “Money has blinded you fools. Why do you remain here? Do you wish to become enslaved?”
Mike walked over to the bed with a slightly annoyed expression but tried to hide it. “Whatever do you mean, boss? How did you end up in such a sorry state?” Mike’s words were laced in a snake-like tone. He clearly only respected Leon when he could provide him with benefits, but now that his boss was weaker than himself, he couldn’t hold back his displeasure.
Leon just closed his eyes and laid there with a content face that frustrated Mike. “Leon, you bastard, we followed you for years. So where is the money you owe me? Huh? You fucking corpse-looking bastard.”
Cameron tried to hold Mike’s forearm while shaking his head, but Mike shoved him off. “The Staedbergh caravan is arriving in three days. Tell us, Leon… What? What do we do? Tell me, please. I can’t return like this…” Mike was half-accusing Leon while simultaneously begging for a solution. The classic example of a leech that had a useless head on his shoulders.
He hit Leon’s bed with a balled-up fist as he collapsed to his knees. After that, he stayed there, heavily breathing as if having a panic attack. “Leon…you know my family is near collapse; I have siblings waiting on me for this money. Two whole years I followed you. Yet it all comes to an end mere days before the grand payday? I refuse to believe it,” Mike said while pounding the floor.
Cameron patted Mike’s shoulders with a pained look. “What can us ordinary people do? Any time during our two-year plan, a random wandering mage could have forcefully taken over, and we would have been powerless…”
“I can take what is rightfully mine…” Mike muttered.
“And how could you, Mik—” Cameron felt a sharp pain in his chest as the air fled from his lungs. A burning pain flared upon his chest as he looked down with wide eyes at Mike’s crazed expression, dagger hilt in hand.
Cameron felt the world in slow motion as he reached down and put his hand on Mike’s hand, firmly grasping the dagger. He tried to push it, yet Mike wouldn’t budge. Cameron gave Mike a lost and questioning gaze.
Cameron’s life flashed before his eyes as adrenaline surged through his body; he frantically clawed at Mike’s hand and pulled on his greasy black hair while he desperately tried to draw in some air, yet there was only the gurgling of blood.
Alex walked over from the other side of the bed with a confused expression; all he could see was Cameron thrashing at Mike’s head. “Hey, hey, hey, stop, Cameron. Why, man?” Alex said while pulling Cameron back.
As the dagger left Cameron’s lung, he howled in pain and crumpled into Alex’s embrace. “Oof… Hey man what the hell—” Alex said in surprise as he reached out to support Cameron’s body, but then he saw Cameron’s white tunic with an expanding dampness of blood emanating from a stab wound.
He looked up, only to see Mike moving toward him with a bloodied dagger. Everything happened in an instant; Alex attempted to raise his arms to block, but his hands were restrained under Cameron’s armpits.
Dropping Cameron’s body like a sack of potatoes, he stumbled back just in time as Mike’s dagger whistled through the air where his neck had just been.
“What are you doing Mike?!” Alex yelled as he balanced his footing; without delay, he reached his right hip and withdrew a dagger of his own. Mike cursed under his breath and flipped the dagger in his hand into a more comfortable position.
Both men ignored the dying man on the floor and Leon’s gaze and instead engaged in a staring contest. Neither wished to make the first move. “Mike…you know you can’t beat me. My Dagger Arts are a higher grade than yours,” Alex said with a relaxed expression. Mike took a split second to look at the door positioned just behind Alex and cursed again.
Mike knew his chances were looking grim now that his surprise attack had failed. Mike’s brain whirled as he attempted to find a winning solution. “Alex, we can share the jewels, you know?” he said in a slightly shaking voice but relaxed his stance to appear more friendly.
Damien had watched this fight with little interest; apart from their corpses to use as nourishment for the vines, he had little use for Leon’s subordinates. But at the mention of hidden wealth somewhere, his ears perked up.
Alex seemed to ponder for a while as he menacingly twirled his dagger between his fingers. Finally, he stopped and tapped the blade on his chin in a rhythmic beat while eyeing Leon’s amused expression.
“Boss, you wouldn’t happen to tell me where your stash is?” he said with a sinister smile. Leon let out a tired chuckle, causing Mike to become anxious and switch to a more aggressive stance.
“Why not? It’s not like I need some pretty jewels anymore; I’m a talking corpse at this point,” Leon said in between some dry laughs.
“So?” Alex said while tapping his foot in frustration.
With an amused smile, Leon slowly said, “In a basement on Third Street—”
Mike suddenly moved surprisingly quickly and aimed for Alex’s throat once more.
Alex had a bored expression with eyes filled with contempt for his former friend turned traitor. He had yet to move and was arrogant as if facing a child waving around a wooden sword. Such was the difference between a professionally trained bodyguard for hire and a wastrel noble son.
Damien smiled in his bed and used telekinesis to alter the fate of the battle.
Just as Alex casually brought his dagger down to parry Mike’s dagger perfectly, he felt an invisible force throw his Dagger Art slightly off course. Instead of a flawless parry like he expected, he could see Mike’s dagger slashing his wrist, drawing blood.
Mike was bewildered and didn’t allow his unexpected victory to go to waste. While Alex was still stunned from the surprising turn of events, Mike hastily pushed forward and rammed the dagger haphazardly into Alex’s leather tunic. Unfortunately, the dagger failed to puncture the leather, so Mike pushed his entire weight onto the dagger’s hilt and found himself falling forward on top of Alex and ramming the blade cleanly into his right lung.
Alex spluttered as he tried to breathe and found himself dying in an eerily similar way to Cameron only moments ago. Mike was panting hard from exhaustion but twisted the dagger to enlarge the wound before extracting the hilt and stabbing immediately into Alex’s right eye—killing him instantly as the iron blade impaled his brain.
Mike rolled off Alex’s cold corpse and collapsed onto the bedroom floor while gasping for breath. His face was flushed red, and he stared at the ceiling in a daze. He had prepared himself for death, yet fate had intervened, and somehow he’d lived!
Damien, the supposed god of fate, was frowning in his sleep. He had surprising difficulty producing such a minuscule effect; he almost didn’t make it in time. He planned to move Alex’s arm downward completely but only managed to affect the dagger’s hilt.
Using psychokinesis over large distances requires far more mental power than I expected… Maybe psychokinesis functions similar to Wi-Fi back on Earth? Does my signal strength reduce due to distance and obstructions like walls?
Alas, his thoughts on the mysteries of Psychic magic had to wait as Mike had finally recovered and stood back up.
Mike eyed Leon as he weighed the blade in his hand. “See you later, Leon… I’m sorry,” Mike said as he turned his back on his former boss and hastily left the room.
Damien’s clairvoyance was a stationary spell, and because it was only C-grade, recasting it each time Mike left its range proved more mentally exhausting than he expected. To conserve energy, Damien switched to Perception Field instead. With the streets empty at this hour, tracking Mike’s silhouette became much easier. In the gray, colorless world outlined by the spell, Damien watched as Mike’s faint, glowing soul darted through the dark—like a wandering lightbulb in a void.
Damien had no clue where this supposed Third Street was since none of the roads were labeled or signposted. He knew he could interrogate Leon or ask a resident tomorrow for directions and scout out the place with his Perception Field. But then he remembered he had subordinates to do these annoying tasks.
Finding himself with a headache and reminding himself he was supposed to be sleeping, Damien pulled on his soul chain with Zero. Within seconds, a dark shadow emerged from the corner of the drafty room, revealing a woman with light purple hair in an emo style over her eyes and dressed in white pajamas.
She bowed, and through their mental link, she asked, “My master’s orders?”
“Follow him,” Damien commanded while transferring Mike’s profile and current location through telepathy.
Zero bowed once more and vanished into the winter night.
Comments
Marin Schmidt
TFTC!
